Diamond in the Rough
by Dirge - a Mournful Song
Summary: He was lost within his selfish desires, cursed, and stuck in the past. She was outgoing, brave, and always looking to the future. She cared for others, and he for himself. Funny how Fate likes to bring the unlikely together. Beauty & the Beast spin-off
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** This is my big time disclaimer for the entire story, 'cause I don't want to have to repeat the same thing over and over in _every_ chapter! None of the characters belong to me, they all belong to Square Enix, and, well, the storyline belongs to Disney.

* * *

**D**iamond in the **R**ough

_**P**__rologue  
_

**T**he sweet melody filled the extravagant room, swarming the mind, body, and soul. The rapturous song leaked from the ballroom and flooded the rest of the mansion, but was only faintly heard from the outside. The young man seated before the grand piano was a handsome one with rich brown hair that swished across his pale, beautiful face. His eyes were a deep hazel, cool and calculating, able to pick up on even the tiniest of detail. He wore a fine black suit, fitted jacket zipped all the way up and his tie close around his neck. His long, pale hands danced across the ivory and ebony piano keys, pressing and molding a perfect melody.

Also in the room were three others: the housekeeper, the butler, and the cook. The housekeeper was a lovely woman with fair skin, wine colored eyes, and silky black hair that flowed about her shoulders. Her plain black dress and clean white apron fluttered about her ankles as she danced gracefully with the butler. The butler was pale-skinned and strong, his eyes cerulean and his lips a thin pressed line. His gold/blonde hair spiked naturally in every which way and did not change no matter how he tried to fix it. Dressed finely in a fitting tuxedo, he twirled his smiling dance partner with elegance.

Off to the side, standing curtly with his gloved hands clasped before him, was the cook. He was a tall man with short-cropped blonde hair that stood up off his skull. His white buttoned coat, greasy apron, and limp hat clutched between his fingers told of recent work in the kitchen. To embody this suspicion was a tray of warm, fresh-baked biscuits resting on a table near the piano, within the reach of the handsome pianist. The cook watched as the housekeeper and butler danced, chewing on a toothpick clenched between his teeth. She'd offered him a dance, but dancing had never caught the cook's fancy.

For a while all was well. The pianist played with unbridled talent and the dancers carried on with remarkable grace. The cook looked on with half-interested blue eyes. The flowing melody did not falter when the sudden barking of a dog became heard. The dancers broke apart, the housekeeper looked to the pianist before hurrying to see to the alarmed guard dog positioned at the mansion's gates.

There was a moment of awkwardness between the butler and cook; neither sure of what to think. The guard only ever barked when visitors or intruders approached the mansion; visitors, however, were unlikely, the master never called for guests. But an intruder? Well…the master _was_ quite wealthy.

The housekeeper returned suddenly, holding up her skirts as she rushed into the room. She skittered to a halt before the pianist, curtsied hastily, and waited for him to address her. He completed his song and selected a biscuit before turning expectantly to the housekeeper.

"Miss Lockhart?"

"Oh!" she curtsied again. "Master Valentine! There… There's an old woman at the door!"

The pianist gazed at the housekeeper unblinkingly and then said in a low, monotonous tone, "I beg your pardon?"

"Yes, she seeks food and shelter, just for the night, sir."

"Tell her to be on her way, there is no room for her here."

"I did, sir, but she insisted that I speak to you on her behalf!"

The pianist, Master Valentine, was quiet, and then, "Bring the old woman here, I am curious to see her."

"Yes, Master Valentine, sir." Miss Lockhart curtsied a third time and hastened to do as her employer bid.

"Mr. Highwind, take these treats and be on your way. Mr. Strife, you are also excused."

The cook fetched his biscuits and he and the butler quickly made their exits. Moment later Miss Lockhart returned, a frail creature in tow. The old woman was dressed in rags and leaned heavily on a gnarled cane. Her graying hair was pulled into a ponytail held by a length of faded yellow ribbon and trailed down her slouched back. Her thin gray shawl, faded blue blouse, and dark purple skirts were spattered with dirt and her red shoes looked immensely uncomfortable. Her sallow face was weary and wrinkled, her teal eyes dull; she was fatigued and clearly exhausted. Her dim eyes fell upon Master Valentine after taking a brief sweep of the sprawling ballroom.

"Please, kind sir," she rasped, her voice trembled as she spoke, "I am so very tired. All I ask is a seat by the fire to rest my swollen feet and warm my aching bones?"

Master Valentine stood slowly and moved to stand in front of his ebony piano. He hesitated to speak to the old woman and when he uttered to no sound, she continued.

"A small meal perhaps, I've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning—"

"There's nothing for you here, old woman," Master Valentine interrupted sharply. "This mansion and everything in it is dear to me. I cannot have you disrupting all the memories preserved in these halls. I only trust the few that I have personally hired with my precious abode."

"Oh _please_, sir, I beg of you!" the woman hobbled forward, movements colored with desperation. "I measly crust of bread to quell my empty stomach, is that too much to ask? I will not harm a precious thing in your mansion, honestly, I only seek shelter from the night. A storm is brewing, too, I can hear the thunder approaching!"

"No!" barked Master Valentine, panic seeping into his voice and widening his eyes. "I should not have let you in. You are disturbing my home, my _memories_! I will not have it! You cannot stay here, you are asking far too much of me! My father once walked these halls, I cannot bare to have such a being as you do the same! You're spoiling his memory! _Leave_, old woman, leave this place at once!"

In an instant, the old woman's vulnerable stance changed. She stood sharply upright, her expression once weary was now stony and her eyes angered. The dirt dissipated from her clothing and the wrinkles from her face, her skin now possessed a healthy, radiant glow. The gray left her limp ponytail and the ribbon brightened, her hair shone and swirled about her shoulders as if on its own accord. The woman, herself, was a beauty now floating just above the ground, her eyes alive with magic and fury.

"Selfish, _selfish_ monster you are!" she scolded, her voice strong and powerful. Master Valentine shrunk back against his piano, terrified by such a display of sorcery. "So young and yet so _cruel_! So far lost in memories of long ago that you have become vain! Selfishly trying to preserve your past and so you loathe letting another in.

"Was it really too much to spare me a crust to eat? I know very well that your cook had recently made you a fine tray of biscuits…but you remove them from the room moments before I enter! You are so greedy as to not share a single one with a starving old woman? You _monster_!"

"Please, _please_ stop this!" begged Miss Lockhart, panicked and afraid. "I…I will fetch you a biscuit, it's not too much trouble!"

"Too late," snarled the sorceress, turning on the housekeeper and holding the poor woman transfixed with her furious gaze. "It's no trouble for you, but for _him_ it was a sin to spare me a mere biscuit! I see no love in his heart, nor do I see any compassion! For this he must be punished, a lesson must be learned!"

"Lady, oh powerful Lady, I beg of you to cease this sorcery! I apologize for my actions, _please_ allow me to light you a fire—" Master Valentine cried, seeking to halt whatever punishment she had in mind.

"Oh, but you do not _mean_ it, do you?" sneered the sorceress, interrupting his plea. "Only hoping to quell my wrath and escape your just punishment?"

"N-No…" the pianist stuttered, but he knew he had been caught.

"You behavior to me was _beastly_, Master Valentine!" the sorceress boomed, her voice shaking the very foundations of the mansion. "Beastly to me, so shall you become!"

A pain erupted in Master Valentine's heart and, shrieking, he fell to floor. Miss Lockhart screamed and tried to run to his side, but found she could not move; her feet fastened to the floor by steely tendrils of light. Elsewhere in the mansion, the cook and butler cried out in equal horror, both unable to move same as the housekeeper.

"Your selfish desires will get you nowhere in life and now it has condemned you!"

The pain intensified and Master Valentine could feel the change taking place. His bones snapped and creaked as they shifted beneath his skin and his spine split with an agonizing _crack_. He raked his hands –now claws– across his face, writhing, trying to rid himself of the pain, but it could not be stopped.

"Until you learn to move on from the past and let go of your greed, a beast you shall remain. Forever, Master Valentine, or forever until you learn to _love_. To love someone besides the memories of the deceased and the preciousness of your belongings."

The transformation was now complete. Crumpled below the grand piano was no longer the young, handsome Master Valentine, but a monster. A beast…

The sorceress descended, her feet touching the ground soundlessly. Her beauty melted away and guise returned. Muttering to herself, she turned and hobbled to the door, sparing no passing glance to the cursed pianist or the housekeeper now collapsed and sobbing bitterly.

"So weary…" the old woman mumbled. "Weary as weary can be…perhaps some kind soul will help me…"

The old woman gone, like a feather carried off by the wind, but in her wake she left disaster. She left despair. She left…_Chaos._

* * *

**A/N:** This is what happens when I help out with a middle school production of _Beauty and the Beast_ every Monday and Friday after school and play Dirge of Cerberus every evening in between… I actually didn't want to post this tonight; I wanted to wait until I had six or so chapters written before posting… I'm currently halfway through chapter four, but I just couldn't contain myself. I _really_ wanted to post this! So if I don't update in a horribly long time, you'll know why.

I couldn't possibly describe Chaos, I tried…but failed miserably. So I'm just going to trust that you all know what Chaos looks like, if not…hm…I would say Google it, but that gave me a shit-load of weird results. I had better luck on DeviantART, so try that. Just put something like "Vincent Chaos form" in the search engine and you'll get some pretty good stuff.

Anyway, the old woman/sorceress was Lucrecia, in case you didn't get it. I thought she'd be perfect for the part since she's pretty much responsible for everything that happened to Vincent…

Heh, how's this for a first story?


	2. Chapter One

**D**iamond in the **R**ough

_**C**__hapter __**O**__ne_

**R**eeve Tuesti was lost. Utterly and hopelessly _lost_. He cursed. He'd been traveling with a group of WRO soldiers to Midgar with the intent of aiding the troops positioned there. Reports of Deepground activity and need of back up had reached him at headquarters in Junon. However, the transports vehicles had hit a rough spot –namely a group of Deepground hounds– and Reeve's vehicle had been overturned in the resulting confusion. He wasn't sure what had happened to the rest of his troops, he was confident that they were all safe and secure, but he'd somehow managed to lose himself. Three hounds had singled him out and he'd been out of ammo, his only option had been to run. Though what unseen force had urged him to run in the opposite direction of the vehicles, Reeve did not know and he felt like an idiot because of it.

He'd wandered through what he had realized with much relief to be Cosmo Canyon and could now be sure that he was somewhere near Nibelheim. As he slowly walked in no particular direction, he became acutely aware of how dark it was getting and the intensity of the encroaching chill. He had to find shelter; somewhere to stay the night. Once settled, he'd contact the others; he'd try Shalua first, she was very reliable and level headed. If anyone could help him out most, it would be the scientist. If Shalua couldn't help, he'd try Yuffie. The ninja, however eccentric, was trustworthy and no doubt would be willing to come to his aide. And, if neither woman could help him for one reason or another, there was still the WRO.

Good, good. He nodded to himself. That was a plan…hopefully his phone was still working…

Reeve walked on. Eventually a row of run-down buildings came into view and he knew he'd reached Nibelheim. As the WRO commissioner smiled slightly in relief and hurried up to the first building he came upon. Anything would do, he just needed an enclosed, quiet place to spend the night and contact help. But the first house was locked. Frowning, Reeve backed up off the cracked doorstep and moved to the next. It, too, was locked. His frown deepened. The third house was also shut tight, and the fourth, and the fifth. Even the windows were sealed and shuttered, inaccessible. He hesitated at the sixth house, hand hovering over the dusty doorknob. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the icy metal and turned… Locked.

Cursing, Reeve kicked the door in frustration. Never mind the houses, he pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped it open. Swiftly, he dialed Shalua's number and raised the phone to his ear. He waited. No ring graced his ear, only static. He pulled the device back and squinted at the small, illuminated screen. Shoot. No service.

Reeve sighed and shoved his phone in his pocket. Great. Nibelheim was an abandoned city and he had no service and no way was getting out any time soon. No shelter either.

He continued to wander down the crumbling street, wary eyes cast in every which way. The darkness was now upon him and Reeve could barely see where he was going. Hands held aloft before him, the commissioner stumbled down the shadow-shrouded streets. He had no idea where he was going exactly, but carried on nonetheless and hoped he might end up somewhere of use. He blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to clear the darkness from his eyes and ran his hands across his face. Upon reopening his eyes, he caught sight of a peculiar silhouette. Was that…a gate? He was positive that that a mansion he was seeing up ahead and he was certain that he could see a light burning in one of the windows.

Hope sparked in his chest. A light could only mean that a person lived in this mansion. And if a person lived there, he could ask for shelter. And maybe they had a working phone as well! Inspired, Reeve surged forward with the smile renewed on his face.

* * *

**T**he bestial guard who'd stood by the iron-wrought gates for as long as could remember suddenly raised his head in alarm. He was certain he'd heard footsteps coming from beyond the gates…but that was not possible. Nibelheim had been abandoned for many decades and there was no reason for humans to come here. He paused. Maybe it wasn't a human? But why would any _other_ creature come here either? Nibelheim had absolutely _nothing_ to offer to _any_ form of creature.

_Oh_. There it was again. These footsteps were rapid, slightly unsteady; the creature was running, perhaps, and probably weary as well. The guard sat up, ears perked, sharp eyes gazing past the gates. Then he saw it. Movement. A tall figure came into view. A person…a man! A man was approaching the mansion!

Leaping to his paws, the guard whirled around, the flame of his tail fluttering in the sudden motion but steadfastly burning. The guard stumbled slightly, claws scrabbling against the cobblestone path for purchase and then he took off for the front door. He didn't dare raise his voice, he hadn't encountered _anything_ for so long! He'd practically lost his job that fateful day thirty years ago and he was unsure of what to do. He figured it'd be best to warn the housekeeper, she'd know what to do!

Rearing up on hind legs, he pressed his front paws against the curved doorknob and let himself into the mansion. He shoved the heavy door shut with a muscled shoulder and then galloped to the one place he _knew_ the housekeeper would be…

"Tifa!" he barked, sliding into the ballroom where the housekeeper was nostalgically cleaning the grand piano located under the domed windows of the massive room. She looked up sharply at the sound of her name.

"What is it, Nanaki?" she asked, concerned. She lifted her skirts away from her ankles as she hurried towards the guard, brows knit together.

"Someone is coming! A man! I saw him, he is approaching the mansion! I…I would have raised an alarm, but I was unsure. It's been so long…"

"Don't worry, Nanaki," soothed Tifa, gently running her thin fingers through his dark mane. Usually Nanaki opposed of this, but for the moment he tolerated it; there were more important things to attend to. "It's understandable. I'll get Cloud, we'll take care of this man."

"Perhaps…" Nanaki paused, thinking. Tifa waited patiently for him to continue. "Perhaps we _shouldn't_ tell the Master…"

Tifa drew in a sharp breath and released it slowly. She nodded. "You're right, it's probably for the best."

"I'll return to my post and keep an eye on this man," said Nanaki, slipping out from under the housekeeper's subconsciously stroking hand. "I'll report to you the minute he passes the gates."

"Very good," Tifa approved, nodding curtly. "I'll go find Cloud, he's probably in the Master's armory like always."

Nanaki turned sharply and cantered off, sliding effortlessly between the partially opened doors and taking a different route to the outside. He rushed to the kitchens and slunk past the cook, deep asleep and snoring loudly in a chair in the corner. The cook despised Nanaki whenever the guard entered the kitchen, swearing that the crimson beast would contaminate the food with fleas and the unpleasantries of mongrels. Nanaki loathed to be called a mongrel but knew better than to argue with the stubborn and temperamental cook. But the cook had yet to discover the missing stone just behind the stove. A stone Nanaki had one day found to be loose and had tediously removed, careful not to upset any balance the stone might have been apart of. Luckily, the stone was merely a stone and not at all necessary to the well being of the mansion's condition. Nanaki was proud to say he'd created a secret passage between the mansion and lawn and no longer had to use that troublesome door if he didn't want to.

Stealthily, Nanaki crouched low to the unkempt grass and crept forwards to the gates, now unguarded. He dared not get too close, with his coat he would be easily noticeable, not to mention his tail was quite bright. He looked on with narrowed golden eyes as the man halted just before the gates, hesitant to enter. The guard noticed that his gaze would often flicker to the wide ballroom windows. Aha, so that's what had drawn him here. Tifa had left a generous amount of lights on in the extravagant room and the man must've followed the light in hopes of shelter. Still, Nanaki could not be sure of how the man got to Nibelheim in the first place. But alas, the guard had the creeping suspicion he'd find out soon enough.

Nanaki shuddered. The last time someone had come here for shelter had been roughly thirty years ago and that had not ended well. Part of him was desperately hoping the man would turn and leave, that he would lose interest in the mansion and go back to where he'd come from. No such luck. The man drew in a deep breath and pushed past the heavy iron gates.

Cursing silently, Nanaki turned tail and fled; retreating hastily through his secret passage, not caring if he awoke the cook or not. His claws clicked rapidly against the dusty wooden floor as he ran, sprinting up the curving stairs to the Master's armory. The room had an ominous air to it as a result of the many weapons ranging from needle-sharp throwing darts to thick buster swords, from a simple pistol to the massive, energy-shooting Death Penalty. Once upon a time when Grimoire Valentine had been master of the mansion he'd prided himself in being able to wield every weapon in his collection with near perfect skill. His son had strived be just like him and trained daily with his father in the art of swordplay, gunmanship, and so forth. But when Grimoire passed away, preserving the memory of his father had become a greater priority than learning to wield fantastic weaponry. Thus was the beginning of the current Master Valentine's eventual downfall to the being he was now.

Presently, Tifa was standing awkwardly in the middle of the large armory; if anything, she was more a hand-to-hand fighter and wasn't quite sure what to do with such hulking weapons. She smiled wanly at Nanaki as he entered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Nanaki took immediate notice of Cloud's absence.

"Cloud went to the basement," explained Tifa upon seeing the guard's golden gazed cast about the foreboding room. "He's just checking on Master Valentine to see if he needs anything…just to be sure that the Master won't suddenly appear at the wrong moment…"

"A good idea, but…" Nanaki sighed. "Rather foolish. Cloud has never before gone to Master unless summoned directly. Master Valentine may suspect something."

"Oh!" Tifa gasped, delicate fingers curving over her mouth. "I didn't think of that!"

"Didn't think of what?" inquired a low, slightly monotonous tone. In the doorway stood the butler, cerulean eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity.

"Cloud," greeted Nanaki with a polite dip of the head.

"Nanaki," the butler returned formally, but a friendly smile threatened his lips. Cloud tried to maintain a cool, solemn persona, but even someone as stubborn as he slipped up every now and then.

"Cloud," Tifa hissed urgently, striding forth and attaching herself to the butler's arm. "Nanaki says the man has entered the gates! He should be here any second!"

As if on cue, there came a loud knock at the front door, resounding painfully loud throughout the mansion. Nanaki, Tifa, and Cloud cringed simultaneously, knowing full well how sensitive the Master's hearing was. Jolting into action, Tifa let out a rather high pitched yelp and released Cloud as she dashed out to the door. Nanaki and Cloud exchanged anxious glances and then ran after the panicked housekeeper.

Her slippers smacked mutedly against the hardwood flooring, muffled by the layers of dust she was guiltily unable to keep at bay after two decades of solitude. She nearly crashed into the front door upon reaching it and wrenched it open, coming nose-to-nose with a handsome man who looked to be in his late twenties. Despite her sudden appearance and probable intrusion of his personal space, she reached out and wrapped a secure hand about the collar of his shirt and yanked him inside.

"_Quiet_!" she hissed, eyes wide and urgent. "You'll disturb his slumber!"

The man sputtered in shock and confusion, his jaw worked to form words but now sound came forth. Tifa then gasped, appalled at herself for such brusquerie, and immediately released the poor man. She curtsied politely and offered an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry! It's been so long since we've had visitors…to tell the truth, we've _never_ had visitors! And honestly, I'm terrified of what _he_ might do if he finds you here!"

The man gave her a questioning look, but a sudden shout interrupted him before he could voice his bemusement.

"Tifa!"

Both looked up as Cloud and Nanaki came bolting down the stairs. The two skidded to a halt next to the housekeeper, panting for breath, and Cloud placed a heavy hand on Tifa's shoulder.

"Don't _do_ that, Tifa!" he scolded lightly. "You nearly gave me a heart-attack when you shouted and I think Red is bleeding from the ears."

Nanaki shook his head in agitation, lifting a paw to rub his sensitive ears. "Not _bleeding_, per se, but throbbing indefinitely."

The man gawked at the great red beast. "Y-You…you _spoke_?"

"Well, yes," replied Nanaki simply, as if the man should've have known this already.

"I think we ought to explain some things to the man," Tifa suggested, looking from Cloud to Nanaki.

"I think we ought to find out why he's here," Cloud countered stoically, folding his arms across his chest.

Taking this as a cue to begin his explanation, the man sighed and described his situation to the three. "I was on my way to Midgar when my transit vehicle was attacked by Deepground hounds and I was separated from the rest of my troops. I was chased all the way to Cosmo Canyon before the hounds lost interest, but by then I was lost. I came upon Nibelheim hoping to find shelter in an abandoned house and hopefully contact one of my subordinates. My phone had no service and I saw the light in your mansion and made my way here… Please, if you would allow me to stay just for the night and possibly grant me access to a phone…?"

Tifa, Cloud, and Nanaki stared at him with equally blank expressions, before Cloud spoke up. "All I gathered was that he got chased by…_something_…and ended up here…the rest I'm a little unclear on."

Tifa nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure I've ever heard of a _'transit vehicle'_ or a _'phone'_ or _'Deepground'_ either…"

Reeve stared at them in incredulity. "Never…? Never heard of them? But _how_…?"

"Well…" said Tifa slowly, raking her brain for the best way to explain things. Truth be told, she did not want to explain _anything_ to this man. This man who had forgotten to state his own name! But aside from that, she loathed to think what the Master would do if he discovered that an _outsider_ knew of their fate…their curse. In all honesty, they –being the cook, the guard, the butler, and herself– were doomed to walk the halls of the Nibelheim Mansion, trapped in time and space; never aging or physically changing at all. One day was like another, night flowed seamlessly into day, calendars had been abandoned _long_ ago and the daily tasks of keeping the manor in top condition had long since been forgotten. There was no point to it. The dust and cobwebs would always come back no matter what. Even mealtimes had become a minor detail in their lives. The Master only ate every once in a while and the rest of them only required a salad or sandwich when they truly hungered. Life…had shriveling into something very bleak. The petals of the rose had fallen and withered, its vibrancy lost long ago.

And the Master himself? Poor Tifa had no idea how to explain him to this stranger, or if she even dared to try! It was probably best not to, but…the man was looking rather curious and his patience seemed to be wearing a little thin.

"Well, _what_, Miss Lockhart. Please, do continue," a silky tone broke Tifa's train of thoughts and startled everyone in the room. The spoken voice seemed to be not one, but two voices laced together, words sown tight by needle and thread. It was chilling. One voice was deep and edgy, making the hair on the back of Tifa's neck stand on end. The other was slightly higher and manic, an air of insanity clinging to every syllable.

Nanaki lowered himself onto his haunches in a feeble display of submission, his fiery tail tucked between his legs in obvious fear. Cloud's posture straightened and every muscle in his body visibly tensed, his cerulean eyes wide and unblinking in a pitiful display of terror. Tifa cringed and brought her stiffly intertwined fingers to her chest as she turned slowly on her heel, horror shining in her narrowed wine eyes.

"M-Master Val—" she stuttered, gulped, and struggled to complete her greeting. "Master Valentine, sir."

"You were saying, Miss Lockhart?" pressed the doubly toned voice, the speaker was encased in the shadows that hung thickly about the frame of the door through which he'd emerged. "I believe you were about to explain something to our…_guest_…?"

"Master Valentine, if I could interrupt, just briefly—"

"_Silence_, Mr. Strife!" the strange voice demanded. Piercing red eyes now shone through the heavy shadow, glowing like hot embers on a fire.

"Please, Master Valentine, don't be upset!" pleaded Tifa, turning fully to her master beseechingly. "He only needs shelter for the night! He's lost, sir, he's been separated from his friends and asks only for a place to stay the night!"

"Oh?" the voice changed, subtly so, but the shift in tones was evident nonetheless. Before it had spoken harshly, icy and contemptuous; but now it softened ever so slightly, an air of bitter sarcasm seeping in. "Well then, if it's _only_ for the night…_I'll give him a place to stay_!"

In a flurry of movement, a blur of red, black, and faintly silver, a monstrosity was swooping upon the poor, unsuspecting man. Long claws grasped either shoulder, biting painfully into his flesh, and there was a rush of wind as great red wings unfurled and uplifted. The man was swept off his feet and carried none to gently up the massive, curving stairs by a beast he could only reason to be some sort of demon.

Dusty hallways passed in a blur and soon, the man found himself thrown bodily into an empty room. Before he could even raise his head to catch a glimpse of his captor, the door was slammed shut, a locked clicked forebodingly, and inky blackness consumed him. The only sound was the creak of those leathery wings as the demon slunk away…

* * *

**A/N: **yeah..."unpleasantries" isn't _really_ a word, but...shh, don't tell!

don't be mad at me! i warned it you it might be a while till i updated didn't i? but i hope this chapter makes up for my tardiness, i would've posted this sooner but i've been busy with all sorts of crap! ugh.

review please! maybe i'll update faster if you do! -wink-


	3. Chapter Two

**D**iamond in the **R**ough

_**C**__hapter __**T**__wo_

**I**t had been three days since Reeve Tuesti had been imprisoned by the demon known as Chaos. His phone was now thoroughly dead from having tried to use it so many times, the battery had just given out. Now he sat in utter silence, locked in a small room in the mansion's west wing. He'd not come in contact with Chaos since his first day, but the housekeeper had visited him plenty of times with tea and small meals.

Reeve often worried about his comrades; wearing himself out with anxiety. Was Shalua holding out okay? Had Yuffie set out on some fruitless search for him yet? What about Deepground and the WRO? How were his troops managing without him?

There came a gentle tap at the door and Tifa entered, bearing a platter of turkey sandwiches. She smiled lightly at Reeve and set the plate before him on a table; Reeve returned the smile with his own appreciative one.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" asked Tifa politely.

"A way home would be lovely," replied Reeve, half-heartedly teasing and lifting a sandwich to his lips.

Tifa sighed. "I'm afraid that's just not possible, I'm very sorry Reeve. We've all tried to talk to the Master, but he just won't hear it! He's too wrapped up in his own affairs, too scared of what happened last time to have anything to do with you. In his mind, it's best to keep you locked up and out of his way than to have to deal with you any other way."

Reeve sighed sadly. "I just wish I could see my friends one last time, just to see how they are faring…"

Tifa gazed at the man sympathetically and felt the sudden urge to do something for him. She new the Master wouldn't be happy, but she at least wanted to get him out of this dark room for a little while.

"Come with me," she said quickly, "I'll show you around the mansion."

"Are you sure…? You're demon of a Master—"

"_Chaos_ is the demon's name," interrupted the housekeeper, she was oddly particular about names. "And I doubt _Chaos_ could care less if you wandered around, but _Master Valentine_ would mind terribly. We just have to hope that _Master Valentine_ stays in the basement and if he's not down there, then we pray that it's _Chaos_ who's up and about."

Reeve shook his head. He never quite understood the difference between _Chaos_ and _Master Valentine._ Weren't they the same person…er, demon? Tifa insisted that they were different, but Reeve couldn't quite see it.

"Come on," urged Tifa, pulling the man to his feet. "You need to get out of that stuffy room for a little while."

* * *

**T**he tour of the mansion went smoothly. The only others Tifa and Reeve bumped into were Cloud on his way to the kitchens to fetch a meal for the Master and a young boy named Denzel. Denzel had been ten the curse was set upon the Nibelheim Mansion and so the lad was still a mere decade old, but was only slightly put off by it. Somehow he managed to remain optimistic despite being cursed and doomed to live forever in a mansion suspended in time and space. Denzel was Tifa's adopted son and before the curse, he'd assisted Mr. Highwind in the kitchen and looked after the guard dog that wasn't so much a _dog_ as he was a wolfish creature from Cosmo Canyon.

Denzel had greeted Reeve enthusiastically, shaking his hand vigorously and warning them in a low tone that _Chaos_ was drifting around the ballroom and it'd be best if they stayed away. Lately, he'd been liable to switch between Chaos and Master Valentine in mere seconds; the sudden changes were downright terrifying.

Tifa then decided that Reeve wasn't required to see the ballroom, despite the fact that she'd been itching to visit the elegant room.

The tour went on. Reeve was introduced to the cook and his sprawling kitchen; he was shown the gardens and formally met the crimson beast that watched over the gates; and he viewed the armory and admired the bountiful collection of gleaming firearms and glinting steel. Reeve was most impressed. He toured the drawing room, peeked in on some of the fanciful bedrooms now in disuse, and previewed a gallery of paintings featuring Master Grimoire Valentine and his predecessors. However, the painting that bore a plaque embellished with the name _'Vincent Valentine'_ had long claw marks streaking across its face, the canvas hung in shreds, and the portrait indecipherable. Tifa sadly explained how the Master had destroyed his own portrait shortly after being cursed in a bought of utter self-loathing.

The gallery was a long corridor with no doors and a dead end, only one access point. The dead end of the corridor had a heavy, burgundy curtain drawn over it as if it were hiding an artifact of sorts. Or at least something of great importance. Reeve's curiosity was piqued, but Tifa had hurriedly stepped in his path before he could take so much as three steps towards the curtain. Stuttering slightly, she tried to peel away his interest and suggested they view a different room. Now Reeve was no fool, he _knew_ right away that Tifa was hiding something. Whatever that curtain concealed was of a high value to not Tifa, per se, but _Master Valentine_ and the demon called _Chaos_. Reeve's interest was captured, he wanted to see this valuable item, he was ever so curious…but he also knew better. From what he'd been told by Tifa, Cloud, and Denzel, Chaos and Master Valentine were not ones to mess with. And though he still could not derive as to _why_ the Master was referred to as two separate beings, Reeve had gleaned enough information that neither of the Master's personalities were at all pleasant. He'd just have to forget about that silly curtain and the mystery it concealed.

Reeve was about to allow Tifa to cart him off to some other part of the mansion when fate decided to intervene. Denzel came sprinting down the corridor, skidding to a haphazard halt in front of his adoptive mother, and clutched to her skirt in a desperate quest for balance. He panted and struggled to regain his breath, during which time Tifa pried him off her apron and kneeled worriedly before him.

"Tifa!" he gasped. "Tifa, we _need_ your help!"

"What happened?" asked Tifa urgently, brows knit in concern.

"Cid found out that Red has a secret passage way from the mansion to the yard through the kitchens. He went off on a hissy-fit and threw a butcher knife at Red!" Denzel explained in a panicked rush, eyes wide with horror as he retold the bloody scene he'd just witnessed.

"Oh, my gosh!" gasped the housekeeper, aghast. "Is Nanaki okay?"

"I…I _think_ so…" Denzel stumbled over his words. "He managed to dodge the full-on blow but he still got cut pretty bad…"

Tifa rose swiftly and started to rush down the hall, she paused for only a brief second to call over her shoulder, "Reeve, _stay here_ and _don't touch anything_!"

And then she and Denzel vanished around the corner. Reeve was left standing awkwardly in the gallery corridor, the faces of the previous Masters of the mansion gazing down on him. He cleared his throat quietly and fidgeted slightly before turning slowly on his heel to stare at that burgundy curtain. It was…so tempting…so _very_ tempting… But Reeve knew that he shouldn't. Tifa obviously didn't want him looking back there and he was in enough trouble in this mansion as is, he really shouldn't be pushing his luck by snooping around in other peoples' business. Especially not the _Master's_ business; Chaos or Master Valentine, neither were someone he wanted to be on the bad side of.

But by some otherworldly force –perhaps the same that had urged Reeve to run _away_ from his transit vehicles– the WRO commissioner found himself walking slowly towards _that burgundy curtain_. Without a solid thought running through his questionably blank mind, Reeve approached the curtain and raised a tentative hand to sweep the heavy material out of the way…

His eyes widened in awe as his gaze fell upon the most remarkable thing he'd ever seen in his life. It was…_materia_. But not just that…he sensed it was something _more_ that just materia. It glowed a pearly white, with alabaster-colored wisps swirling beneath its glassy surface. Hues of periwinkle and lavender mingled within its glistening core like a miniature nebula straight from deep space. It was also much larger than normal materia and seemed much more powerful. It…it was _beautiful_. And yet, something about just didn't sit well with Reeve. By all means, it _looked_ like some rare form of materia…but it seemed to emit vibes of omnipotence and there was an almost _dangerous_ gleam to its pearly surface.

Reeve was both repelled from and drawn to it. While a more sensible part of his mind screamed at him to pull the curtain shut and pretend he'd never set eyes upon this materia, an unfortunately stronger part of his mind encouraged him to touch it. His gaze was glued to the sparkling materia, a faint glimmer of greed shining through, and his hand hovered tentatively over the precious orb. He was mere millimeters away from touching the materia…

A blood-curdling shriek echoed throughout the mansion.

Reeve drew back, horrified with both himself and beast that loomed in the corridor not ten feet away.

Snarling, the demonic Master of the Nibelheim Mansion swooped forth and wrapped his claws around the gleaming materia. He cradled it to his chest, his shoulders curling inward as he did so. He directed his fiery crimson eyes to Reeve in a glare so full of hate and rage that it seemed the planet had suddenly stopped spinning.

"Do you realize what you could have done?" demanded the demon, fangs bared in unbridled fury. He didn't wait for a response –not that Reeve was currently capable of forming one– and pressed on. "You have disturbed the one thing still precious to me! You were tried to steal my materia, my _Protomateria_! Thief!" the demon roared. At this point Reeve noticed how the beast's eyes were phasing between red and yellow, and a small voice at the back of his mind muttered something about that _not_ being good. "A thief is what you are, and thieves must be punished!"

Reeve jerked out his terrified stupor in time to see the demon raised a clawed fist, fully prepared to strike him down on the spot.

"No!" shouted Reeve, eyes wide with panic. "Please, show mercy!"

"Death! That is my sentence and it will be your fate!" growled the demon, fist unfurling and razor sharp claws itching to plunge into the commissioner's flesh.

"You can't mean it!" Reeve cried, stumbling back.

The demon advanced, snarling. "Watch!"

"Just grant me one last wish, sir, _please_!" Reeve loathed to admit that he was begging outright.

The demon paused, stepped back slightly, and glared at the man expectantly. "Well?"

"Allow me to see my friends one last time. There's a war going on and I'm needed; if I disappear, they'll think the enemy has me and cause unnecessary drama. They might be killed trying to rescue me and I'd never forgive myself knowing I was the cause of their deaths! So _please_ allow to visit them, just to explain was has become of me…I-I promise I'll return."

"To death?" The demon narrowed his red and yellow eyes.

Reeve swallowed hard. "Yes. Death."

"You swear it?"

"I swear it."

The demon glowered down at the man for a good five minutes, contemplating, the Protomateria still cradled to his chest.

"Very well," he growled. "You have three days; no more, do you understand?"

"I do," assured Reeve, then he faltered. "But I do not know how to get to Midgar…"

The demon gave a short bark of laughter, cold and cruel. "_That_ is not my problem, I only care that you receive punishment."

And with that said, the demon turned sharply and swept away; leathery wings partly unfurled as he more _drifted_ than actually _walked_ down the hall and round the corner. Reeve was left standing near that infernal burgundy curtain, his knees weak with fright and his heart constricting within his chest. Oh what terrible tragedy had befallen him, he was surely doomed; his fate set in stone.

Dejectedly, he started off down the hall, his steps uneven and heavy. His downcast eyes narrowed slightly in his sorrow. He didn't notice the sleek red form falling in step beside him until the beast spoke up.

"So you need help getting to Midgar?" asked Nanaki, he was limping noticeably on his right hind leg. That same leg bore a large white bandage, tinted slightly red along the center; Reeve assumed that was the resulting injury of Mr. Highwind's tantrum.

"Yes," murmured Reeve, nodding somberly. "I was lost when I found this place. Even though I do know I'm in Nibelheim, that's as far as my knowledge goes…I've never been here before."

Nanaki dipped his head in understanding. "I think I can be of assistance. Follow me."

With that, the great red beast trotted awkwardly ahead, his fiery tail wishing about Reeve's ankles as he passed. The WRO commissioner hesitated for a moment before jogging after the beast, curious. Nanaki led him to the iron wrought gates of the Nibelheim Mansion, stopping short in front of the unkempt yard's boundary.

"I do not dare go further than this point," confessed Nanaki regretfully. "But, I can call upon my brothers to guide you."

"Brothers?" questioned Reeve.

"Not by blood," Nanaki murmured, a tinge of sorrow coloring his low voice. "It's been so long, my true brothers will be very old now…the beats of their hearts numbered. No," Nanaki shook his head, his voice hardening slightly. "It would be sons and daughters of my brothers that I would be calling now. If I ask it, they will guide you to Midgar."

"Really? Why, _thank you_, so very much!"

Nanaki gave a curt nod before throwing back his head, face uplifted to the rising sun. A howl was released from his throat, breaking free of his maw and shattering the eerie still of Nibelheim. The bone-chilling sound reverberated off the hollow sides of the empty houses, danced between the peaks of Mt. Nibel, and slipped like liquid across the valley and into Cosmo Canyon. The melodious howl resounded for no more than a minute before Nanaki snapped his jaws together and lowered his head, cocked it slightly, and listened. The last strains of his song were just whispering away when another came forth. This one was just as chillingly beautiful, but seemed much more bittersweet than Nanaki's.

The red beast nodded once. "They are waiting for you. Bear east –towards the sunrise– that will take you to the heart of Cosmo Canyon where two of my sisters will be waiting. But hurry, they will not wait forever."

"Thank you, very much," murmured Reeve, moving towards the gates.

"Do not thank me," mumbled Nanaki. "I have only prolonged your death. The next time we meet, it will be under dreadful circumstance… Farewell, Reeve, you would have been a good friend."

Biting his lip, Reeve could only nod mutely to the crimson beast and then pushed through the iron wrought gates and into the hollow town. Nanaki did not linger to watch the man's disappearing form, instead he turned sharply and trudged to the mansion's front door. He stopped suddenly and threw back his head in one last mournful howl. Miles away in Cosmo Canyon, his sisters heard the faint strains of his voice and strengthened with their own. Together, they spun a tale of tragedy and hardship; life could be so very cruel…

* * *

**A/N: **telling someone not to touch anything is the kiss of death (in this case, literally). silly Tifa, what were you thinking?

i warned you that it might be while until my next update! sadly, it'll be a little while _longer_ until i update again. it's summer and i'm leaving for a better part of the month... sorry!

another thing: this story is NOT yaoi and while i have no problem with yaoi, it's just not in this story. so to sooth the worries of Black Samurai, i'll repeat: not yaoi. what would the pairing be, anyway? Reeve/Vincent? no, that's a little too weird for me. Sorry if i come off at rude, it's totally unintentional. anyway, the pairing in this story should be pretty obvious, just look at two i put down for key characters!

again, i apologize for the delay and i apologize ahead of time for the even longer delay that is fast approaching. thanks for reviewing!


	4. Chapter Three

**D**iamond in the **R**ough

_**C**__hapter __**T**__hree_

"**M**-Master Valentine?" stuttered Tifa, hesitantly approaching her demonic employer. He stood in encased in shadows beneath the frame of the door that led to the spiraling stairs to the basement. His eyes were downcast, fixated upon the dimly glowing Protomateria, and it was impossible to see what color they currently possessed.

"Master Valentine?" Tifa repeated, her voice a little stronger but there was an undeniable quiver in her words. She reached out to the Master, her hand hesitating a moment before lightly touching the cool, rough skin of his shoulder. The demon jerked away, his claws tightening around his treasure, and his lifted his face to glare at the housekeeper. His eyes were yellow.

"Oh," breathed Tifa, "Chaos, it's you."

"What do you want?" he asked darkly. When Chaos spoke, the higher, more manic of the two interlaced voices was slightly more dominant. As opposed to when Master Valentine spoke and the dominant voice was the rougher, edgier one. Aside from the change in eye color, the stronger voice was the only way to infer which was currently in control: Chaos or Master Valentine.

Tifa bit her lip, sucked in a deep breath, and the ploughed on with her question. "Don't you think you were a little harsh on the man?"

"No," snapped Chaos, luminous yellow eyes narrowing into slits. "He tried to steal my Protomateria, he must be punished."

In situations where the Master was being stubborn and difficult, it was always best to just agree with him and be done with it. But when it involved the life of an innocent man, Tifa wasn't about to stand by and let him be killed in cold blood.

"But _death_, sir? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"It is _not_ too extreme!" Chaos barked, wings flaring out with indignation. "It is just what he deserves! Do not question me again, _Tifa Lockhart_, do not even _dare_!"

Her breath hitched in her throat, Tifa winced at his harsh words, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten to her. She lifted her chin, set her jaw, and held his gaze defiantly.

"Let me speak to Master Valentine." She spoke as more of a demand than a request and hoped it would not land her any trouble.

Chaos' mood changed in an instant. The demon was unstable in this sense, he was often times unreasonable, but when in a "good mood" he was very aloof and possessed a dark sense of humor. He chuckled, a sound filled with only hysteria given the qualities of his voice.

"Valentine is sleeping," the demon informed her, unconsciously stroking the Protomateria clutched in his arms. "He is quite tired, but he asked me to give you a final request before I lay myself to sleep. Do _not_ awaken him for _anything_ until that man returns for his punishment. Is that understood?"

Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded curtly.

"Good," cooed the demon. "You're a very good little girl, Tifa. You do as you're told. Try not to…disappoint me, or Valentine for that matter. You know what dreadful consequences await you if you…_disappoint_ us."

The sneer on his face lingered in Tifa's mind as the demon curled his great wings against his muscular body and vanished into the basement. She dragged in a shaky breath, clenched her jaw, and released it through her nose. She forced her hands out of the fists she had been unaware of forming and habitually smoothed out her already perfect dress.

"Yes, Chaos," she said tartly, knowing full well he could not hear her. "I know very well."

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and marched off to her small living quarters on the second floor.

* * *

--

**R**eeve stumbled into Midgar; the two massive red canines that had escorted him bowed their heads and backed off. But they did not go far; one stepped forward and addressed him formally.

"We will await you at this spot," she informed him. "But if you do not return after your remaining two days have passed, we will leave without you."

Reeve nodded numbly, too weary from the hard day's travel to reply verbally. The beasts didn't seem to mind for they slunk back into shadows of the surrounding hills, vanishing into the encroaching night. Reeve gazed at the spot where the females had once stood before turning towards the city entrance and stumbling through.

* * *

--

"**I**'m worried about Reeve," the young ninja, Yuffie Kisaragi, confessed, twirling her apple juice with a bendy straw. She watched with brows knit in obvious concern as the small blocks of ice chinked together and caused miniature tidal waves of sweet juice within the confines of the glass.

"So am I," murmured Shalua Rui, glancing out the window and into the nighttime city landscape. "He was supposed to arrive four days ago, where _is_ he?"

"His troops showed up," mumbled Yuffie, sipping her thoroughly stirred juice. "Thanks to them we managed to hold off those Deepground suckers, but…"

"We need our commissioner," finished Shalua, sighing and looking away from the window.

The two women were sitting in the small cafeteria on the second level of their base of operations. The young ninja had become restless after the second day of Reeve's absence, the man had been something of a father figure to her; he was always so calm and levelheaded, she admired that. The older woman, however, had been worrying about Reeve after an _hour_ of his absence. His troops had informed her of an ambush on their transit vehicles, but there had been no serious damage done. The Deepground hounds had been taken out with the only casualties being a few nasty bites and scratches…and a missing commissioner. One solder had apparently seen Reeve cornered by a group of hounds, but had been jumped before he could go to the commissioner's aid. It was uncertain what had happened to him after that.

Yuffie, upon hearing this news, had at first insisted that Reeve was tough and was probably muscling his way across the plains to reach Midgar. She was confident that he was okay and that he would show up sometime that day. But when he didn't come back and remained missing the next day…and then the next…and the next… Even Yuffie was beginning to lose hope.

Shalua sighed, bowed her head, and closed her eye. Raising her normal arm, she absently adjusted her glasses and ran her fingers briefly through her caramel colored ponytail. When she lowered her arm, it came to rest at her side for merely a second before moving to clutch her prosthetic elbow.

"Cheer up, Shalua," Yuffie encouraged feebly. "I'm sure he's…alright…"

"Whom are you trying to fool, Yuffie?" mumbled Shalua, disheartened. "I doubt Reeve will ever return."

"Doubt? That's hardly like you, Dr. Rui. I'm sure he'll turn up eventually."

At the sound of his voice, however whispery and course, Shalua gasped, her eye alit with distinct happiness. She whirled around to come face to face to a haggard looking Reeve. She nearly hugged him, but that would have been severely out of character; not to mention, she could only properly use one arm and Reeve seemed ready to drop.

"Here," she said, doing her best to remain calm, but her elation shone in her voice. "Come sit down, you look exhausted."

Reeve slumped into a chair behind the cafeteria's serving counter, right next to Yuffie who did not hesitate to abandon her apple juice and fling her arms around Reeve's neck. Shalua, whom had been just about to pour the commissioner a glass of water, gave the ninja a scathing glare.

"Yuffie," she scolded, "leave the man be! You'll suffocate him like that!"

The self-proclaimed ninja didn't back off right away, but hugged Reeve a little close for a split second before relinquishing his grip. Her cheeks had a faint pinkish flush to them, but she figured that if she merely didn't acknowledge them, they'd go away. Shalua shook her head at the young woman's eccentricities.

"Here," murmured the scientist, placing a cool glass of water into the commissioner's tired hands. He smiled wanly and drank deeply. Once he'd drained the glass, Shalua took it back and refilled it, adding a couple cubes of ice as she did. The third glass seemed to have finally quenched his thirst and softened his dry throat; Shalua now dared to question him.

"Where…where have you been?" she asked gently. A thin, elegant hand rested comfortingly on his sagged shoulder.

Reeve frowned, thoughtful, he seemed hesitant to disclose the answer. But eventually he spoke, "I assume the commander of my troops told you that I was chased off by a pack of Deepground hounds?"

Shalua and Yuffie nodded simultaneously.

"Well…they chased me as far as Cosmo Canyon before losing interest, but by then I had no idea how to get back. I was vaguely familiar with the area, but…that was not enough to help me. My phone had…no service and…I had no items with me. I knew enough of the area to know that I…I would end up somewhere near Nibelheim if I continued in my current direction."

He paused to refresh his parched throat. He breathed. He pressed on.

"I…wandered through Nibelheim for…quite some time. All the houses were locked and abandoned; I had no shelter. I was…beginning to lose hope. Then I saw a candle burning…in the window of the old Nibelheim Mansion…"

Another pause. Another sip. Another breath. He pressed on.

"When I approached the mansion, I was immediately pulled inside by…by a young woman…her name was Tifa Lockhart. She…she was the housekeeper…and she was afraid I would wake _him_ up…"

He drank again. Shalua refilled the glass. He–

"Him?" queried Yuffie, twirling on her stool. "Whose him?"

"Shush," Shalua silence her with a hiss.

He pressed on.

"Soon I also met…the butler. A handsome young man…his name was Cloud Strife…the guard dog was with him. Remarkable beast, not a dog at all, but a wolf from Cosmo Canyon; beautiful creature, that Nanaki…the housekeeper's son nicknamed him Red for his coloring." Reeve caught himself getting off topic. "Anyway…I asked them to allow me a night's stay and…access to a phone. They didn't know what I was talking about… They didn't know what a phone was, they'd never heard of transit vehicles, and they hadn't the faintest idea of what Deepground was… They also told me it was unwise to stay the night."

He breathed. He drank. He breathed again. He pressed on.

"Tifa…she _wanted_ to tell me what was going on…but that's when _he_ came."

Shalua bit her lower lip, part of her dreaded who _he_ might be.

"He was terrifying. He was at least six feet tall! He was scaly…and red…he had fiery eyes…but sometimes they were yellow and just as fierce… His…he was the Master of the mansion…but he was a demon. He—"

Reeve stopped abruptly. Swallowed hard. Drained his glass and licked his lips.

"I nearly took something precious from him…and he's sentenced me to… I only have three days before I must return… Nanaki called on some of his sisters to lead me here…they're still waiting just outside the city gates… The journey took a full day and I must be back before my time is up…I don't know what he'll do if I don't return, but it can't be very pleasant! I…I can only stay a day. The next day I'll leave early in the morning to make it back in time…"

"In time for what?" breathed Yuffie, her eyes wide with wonder and fear.

Reeve shook his head slowly and sadly. "I nearly stole something precious from him," the commissioner repeated. "He's sentenced me to death."

Shalua and Yuffie both gasped in unison, but for different reasons.

"Oh, Reeve, you _can't_ return!" exclaimed Yuffie, wrapping her long fingers around the weary man's trembling wrists. Desperation filtered into her storm-gray eyes as she pleaded with him, but Reeve only shook his head.

Shalua sucked in a sharp, furious breath. Scowling slightly, she peeled the ninja away from Reeve and dragged with the protesting girl into a far corner. Yuffie tried to pull away, but Shalua had her in an iron grip. The only plus to having a useless, prosthetic arm was that the living limb gained much strength.

"What's wrong with you, Yuffie," hissed Shalua, angrily. "Can't you see he's delusional? He's been wandering around with no food or water for _days_, he's hallucinating!"

"But, Reeve—" Yuffie tried to defend him.

"Is _delusional_," pressed Shalua, glaring stubbornly at the younger girl. "He's hungry and dehydrated, I'm taking him to the medical center." The scientist started to turn away, but stopped abruptly and shot the ninja another pointed glare. "_Please_ leave him alone, Yuffie. I _know_ you care about him, but _please_. He doesn't need the added stress."

With that said and done, Shalua released the ninja and left her standing dumbstruck in the corner while went to attend to Reeve. Yuffie watched mutely, her jaw clamped tightly, as the scientist coaxed the commissioner to his feet and gently guided him out the door.

The ninja huffed and plodded back to her stool. She scooped up her abandoned apple juice and began swirling the sweet liquid with her bendy straw with a renewed vigor. She grumbled to herself in her native language, grouchy and depressed. Grouchy because Shalua had just forbid her from speaking to Reeve until her was "better" and depressed because that demon was going to kill him!

"Well," Yuffie muttered to herself, an idea forming in her mind. She set down her apple juice with a dull _thunk_ and a determined air. "I'm not going to let Reeve go back to that demon –not that Shalua will let him leave the medical center at all– and everyone here _needs_ him. I, on the other hand, am not _as_ necessary…_I'm_ expendable."

Yuffie grinned to herself, but the grin soon melted away.

"Sorry, Reeve…sorry, everyone…I'll miss you…"

The demon would surely kill her.

* * *

--

**D**eep within the basement of the Nibelheim Mansion, Chaos lifted the lid of his coffin. He sat upright, gleaming yellow eyes narrowed into slits. Valentine was still dormant at the back of his mind; the Master had not sensed the sudden disturbance that had awakened Chaos. But then, why _would_ he? The affairs of demons and their counterparts were _above_ mere humans. Miles and miles above.

Chaos gripped the rim of the casket tightly, his claws digging into the polished wood. He snarled. But there was nothing he could do. Not until the curse ran out or was somehow lifted and he was free of his magical binds.

He'd have to wait. He'd have to be patient. But he only had so much time…

* * *

--

**A/N: **'kay...so it was a long time since my last update...knew it would be, i went away for a bout five weeks and then had a whole lot of crap to deal with when i got home... but it's cool now and i've been able to pick up on this story again! hooray!

so this was chapter three...um...not much i can really say about it...though i'm not to pleased with Reeve's little explanation at the end hee, it got a little repetitive, but i'm too worn out to really do anything about it... i was trying to make it like a pattern and still be rhythmic, but i'm fairly certain it was an epic-fail on my part... ugh. i'll do better in the next chapter!

thank you all for reviewing!


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